


Warm Gold and Cold Blue

by QueenWuppy



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Tony Stark, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes is also Bisexual, Drug trafficking, Human Trafficking, If I actually manage to write more of this, M/M, Secret Identity, Steve Rogers is actually listening to people, Steve Rogers is actually reasonable, Super-fun Clubhouses for vigilantes, That "Bad Guys do Bad Guy Things" tag is a universal tag, Tony Stark is bisexual, Torture, Vigilante AU, other stuff that the Bad Guys do, the Bad Guys do Bad Guy things that are Bad, there will potentially be a lot more 'ships and other tags too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenWuppy/pseuds/QueenWuppy
Summary: They were called the Metal Men. There were just the two of them; one in warm gold colours, the other in cold blues, silver and black. Summer and Winter, people on the streets named them.The Metal Men were dangerous. The officials in the area seemed to think of them as true supervillains, and wanted the Superheroes in the area to devote time to taking them down. They acted more like vigilantes, however, themselves removing the cruel and corrupt.To the men and women they confronted, Summer tended to be referred to as Demon, for his fire and his willingness to make deals if they wanted to live.Winter was known more as Nightmare and on more than one occasion, simply "Death". He was relentless, and happened in the night, horrifying like the worst of night terrors.





	1. The Demon Strikes Two Fair Deals

They were called the Metal Men. There were just the two of them; one in warm gold colours, the other in cold blues, silver and black. Summer and Winter, people on the streets named them.

  
Summer was a completely metal man, head to toe decked out in the colours of fire. His weapon was commonly what appeared to be columns of flames coming from his hands and feet, and sometimes from his chest too. He could fly on them, speed through the air like a demon.

  
Winter had merely a black metal muzzle and silver limbs, though his left arm was bulkier and seemed to be stronger than the other. The icey blues wrapped around the sliver like vines, and decorated his strappy black leather jacket and cargo pants with what looked like gems. Diamonds, or darker sapphire. Winter used guns, and knives. And his arm.

  
The Metal Men were dangerous. The officials in the area seemed to think of them as true supervillains, and wanted the Superheroes in the area to devote time to taking them down. They acted more like vigilantes, however, themselves removing the cruel and corrupt.

  
To the men and women they confronted, Summer tended to be referred to as Demon, for his fire and his willingness to make deals if they wanted to live.

  
Winter was known more as Nightmare and on more than one occasion, simply "Death". He was relentless, and happened in the night, horrifying like the worst of night terrors.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"Summer?" Natasha asks quickly. "You're being sent after Summer and Winter?"

  
Steve nods.

  
Natasha looks at him severely. "You know in the backstreets they're called Demon and Nightmare; that they take care of the worst of the worst, those we've tried to redeem and have failed, right?"

  
It was then that Tony walks in. "Steve," he says, "You need to come down to the lab to have your new armor set properly fitted."

  
"New armor set? I got this one a week ago! It's undamaged!"

  
"Steve, Summer's fire is hot enough that that-" Tony points at his uniform, "will combust in an instant."

  
Steve gapes.

  
"Your new set is essentially an extremely sleek version of a bullet-proof prototype for fire-fighting gear. I've been calling it the 'at-least-you-don't-look-like-a-bee-keeper."

  
Steve gapes some more. "Really, guys?"

  
"Look, Steve, honey. Sweetheart. They're setting you up to either fail and get hurt - maybe even killed- or for you to take out their biggest competition. Anyone who has studied their fights knows two things about that pair – that they're good at strategy and that neither of them bleed. The military sent a tank at them, Steve, it didn't even slow them down. Summer took the second 'buster to the face, and none of them rest hit, and then the tank was destroyed. All 11 million dollars' worth of it. You won't win. For all that you are super strong and super fast… Steve, you're just one man. I don't want to be scraping my best friend off the streets."

  
"He's right, Steve," Natasha says quietly. "The pair of them are terrifying. Winter… Winter used to belong to the Red Room. Back when he was owned. He was my trainer when he was forced, and he was as kind as he was allowed to be. But… I've fought him. He could have killed me. He would have, if he hadn't been letting me escape. If he decides you're in their way, you'll be dead before you wake one morning."

  
Clint chimes in then with, "I was sent after them once. Winter caught one of my arrows in his hand, and it exploded in his fist. His palm looked a little charred when he turned to look at me and wave."

  
Steve shakes his head. "You're not kidding me, are you."

  
Clint looks him in the eyes. "Then the roof of the building I was on started blowing up. That's actually how I lost my hearing in my left ear – but. Not the point. It was our forces blowing it, because they'd been given intelligence that 'a shooter' was on that roof – me, but they'd thought 'a shooter' had meant Winter. I was blown off the side of the building. Summer caught me. His arms were almost blisteringly hot. I had to be treated for burns in addition to my blast damage."

  
Tony looks at Clint then with a touch of sympathy, and lightly rests a hand on Clint's upper back for a second. Clint's eyes widen, but so slightly that Steve does not noticed.

  
"Steve, look. We don't want you chasing them. We know you will, because you've been asked by your superiors, and you think they're doing more harm than good."

  
"They are," Steve frowns.

  
Natasha looks away. "I don't want you dead."

  
"'Tasha, we just need to show him otherwise."

  
"With evidence? He has evidence. He is ignoring it because he feels that he is right."

  
"That would be Steve," Clint sighs.

  
"You… do all realize I'm still here, right?"

  
"We're hoping that by insulting you, you might actually realize we're serious." Tony says. "Either way, come by my workshop before you do anything else. You're not taking off your bulletproof vest from now on, and that alydlabk if you're fighting."

  
There was silence for a moment. "What the hell'd you just say, Stark?" Clint asks, laughing. "A-Lid-Lab-kih. Classy."

  
Tony pouts. "C'mon, what it stands for is brilliant!"

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Steve spent hours going over the reports Tony had found for him. He'd already read what had been given to him in the folder Sitwell had given him, but under the weight of Tony's whining (read: worry), Natasha's harsh stare and Clint's nervous grin, he'd picked up the extra study.

  
It worried him how nicely the file he'd originally been given fitted in with Tony's thoughts on why he'd been given it. Sitwell's file had only accounts from specific people, and often those Sitwell himself personally knew.

  
Tony's file, on the other hand, was filled with reports from everyone below middle management, from people who'd been just walking by, from those who had second hand accounts.

  
It had multiple references from people who either Summer or Winter had saved - mostly impersonally, but enough where it was personal. Like the Blackwells' story.

  
They'd been kidnapped – the pair of twins Celeste and Sapphire Blackwell, aged 19, and their younger sister Venus, who'd been 8. Human Trafficking. Run by one of the big-wigs, from whom a report was given in Sitwell's folder.

  
Apparently, they'd been stuck in the back of a car, gagged and tied up. They'd heard some crashing and banging and a good number of gunshots and screams, and then the car boot had been wrenched open without being unlocked first.

  
Winter had been looking down at them, eyes shining from behind dark make-up, and had carefully pick up each of them and set them on the ground, leaving Summer to burn and melt away their bindings. Winter had picked up Venus, and held Celeste steady as they walked. Summer had done the same for Sapphire. They'd been walked to the nearest police station.

  
The only words the three sisters had heard was an "I'm sorry if I burn your arm," from Summer when Sapphire used them to help walk.

  
It certainly painted the duo in a different light. Steve still felt unsure about the Metal Men, and so he'd decided to do some first-hand reconnaissance.

  
He'd been given information that the metal pair was supposed to be in this alleyway at some point tonight. They'd apparently agreed to a meeting of some description, with an unknown – at least by Steve – person. Now that he had thought about it, that was probably highly relevant… what the duo intended to do likely was based entirely on who that person was and what they had or hadn't done.

  
Steve could see a slight disturbance in the air where there should not have been, and from it came a sound like a vague electrical hum, and the murmur of a conversation he couldn't make out.

  
The noise quietened a little, and a blurry form appeared hovering in the air. The clear streaks that had been aligned vertically below it became the distinct colour of Summer's flames, and the form slowly resolved into the vigilante pair. Winter was standing on Summer's boots, arms wrapped around Summer's midsection. Now that Steve was close enough to look, it appeared as though there were handholds in Summer's back that fitted Winter's hands.

  
They almost glided down until they were about a half meter off the ground, and then Summer cut the power and they landed with a surprisingly gentle thud on the dirty concrete. Winter let go of Summer slowly, like it was a regret. His hand slid down, first to the center of Summer's back, and then down to Summer's hips, before being dragged away as Winter stepped off Summer's feet.

  
Steve could still hear a distinct murmur from the two and figured that they must be talking beneath their masks. If they were masks. The full suit could be an AI like Tony's JARVIS. That was a potential thing.

  
"To the dude sitting in the plants in the balcony two stories up, we'd like to chat afterwards, if that's alright?"

  
Steve startled. He'd actually thought his hiding spot had been quite good. "Okay?"

  
"Hmmm," Summer says. His voice was incredibly metallic. It sounded far more robotic that Steve had been expecting. It was in the way the words fell together with either too long or too short gaps, like it was through a voice simulator. But the words themselves seemed human.

 

Summer's hand slides through Winter's hair. Winter scowls in return and flicks at Summer's arm. It produces a metal ting that rings through the air. Winter's hair is a dark brown, almost black colour. It looks quite limp and greasy from where Steve sits.

  
Steve looks at the digital alarm clock in the room he's hiding outside of. It is still only 9:47pm, a full thirteen minutes before the meeting is supposed to take place. He leans back to get comfy. It isn't.

  
Winter slouches almost unnoticeably, and Summer's plates lock. Winter holds up his arm in front of himself, and Steve fears for a moment that Winter is going to shoot something with it, only for Winter to start shifting the plates on it menacingly.

  
As a good friend of Tony Stark… that kind of technology makes him want to weep. It is truly gorgeous. He wants to draw it. Why hadn't he brought his pencils with him?

  
The gas streetlights make Summer's armor look stunning. It picks up all of the right colours on Summer, and makes it look like they are glowing, like a sunrise. Or fire itself. It washes out Winter's colours, though, and makes him fade into the dark. Winter's blues look almost green in this lighting.

  
Winter sharpens his gaze on the entrance of the alley, and Steve hears a set of footsteps before he sees the man approach. He is wearing what looks to be an expensive suit, the material cutting a sharp figure. His shoes are leather, and his hair slicked back in an out of date fashion, not unlike Steve's own.

  
He doesn't speak.

  
Summer and Winter just stand there, not moving, and only Winter appears to be breathing.

  
The man shifts uncomfortably, before arrogantly stating, "You said I could have a deal?"

  
Under his breath, Winter speaks something Steve can't make out, mostly because it is in a language he doesn't understand. "Не с таким отношением."

  
The murmur of laughter rings quietly from Summer.

  
"Sure. Here it is: you stop trafficking humans and hard drugs, and stop skimming off the top of your company's profits, and we won't kill you."

  
"No! But I'd end up destitute! I want better than that; I'll stop trafficking girls, is that good enough?"

  
Summer tilts his head and taps his forefinger against it a few times. The sound makes the man flinch.

  
Summer finally straightens and replies, "How about, you never commit another crime and also you leave the city and we don't kill you."

  
"What! But that's worse than my original option!"

  
"We give you twenty-four hours head start before we start hunting you, if you choose to stay; else we'll only kill you if we find you ever do another bad thing in your life." Summer moves his head in such a way that it implies he is eyeing the man. "You might even put up enough of a hunt that Winter has some fun, it's been a while."

  
Summer then turns to face Winter, clearly dismissing the man. Their voices are muffled further, and Steve is now sure they aren't speaking English; he has no hope of understanding their conversation.

  
"Hey." The man says. "Hey! I wasn't done!"

  
It was Winter that twists his head to look at him, dark hair sliding in the breeze. With a heavy accent, he says, "But we were done with you." His eyes are the grey-blue of ice.

  
The man swallows, and steps backward, stumbling on a stray bit of cardboard. Winter keeps his glare on the man. The man continues backward, until he reaches the road, and spins around to run off. He'd nearly tripped again, on a bit of broken brick this time.

 

 

Winter moves his gaze to the plant Steve is sitting behind. "You coming out, Mister America?"

  
"I suppose,"

  
He stands, and swings himself off the balcony, and jumps to the ground. Slowly. There is no need to make any moves even vaguely threatening.

  
"If you don't mind, we'd like to show you something." That is Summer.

  
"You… want me to go somewhere with the two of you. Without back up."

  
Summer shrugs apologetically. "Yes."

  
Steve looks between the two metal figures in front of him. "This isn't a kidnapping, right?"

  
"So long as you agree to come with us," Winter says.

  
"Sorry," Summer adds.

  
"Riiiiiiiight." Steve says. "Great."

  
"That's the spirit!" Summer cheers. "Hop on, boys."

  
Winter puts a foot on Summer's right, and wraps his arm firmly around him. With his other, he gestures to Steve, and when Steve is close enough, pulls him in. Steve steps onto Summer's boot, and notes that it is easy to stand on, it is clearly flatter on the top than it looks.

  
Steve felt along Summer's hot back where he knows the handhold is, and to his surprise, feels the metal giving way in one spot. _That was why the handholds had not been noticed: they were created by pressure_. Steve slips his hand in. It is curved inside, and fits the shape of a hand perfectly. Oddly enough, it feels cool to the touch, too, unlike the rest of Summer.

  
He can feel the heat, and knows that while he'll burn, it will be about as deep as sunburn, and will heal within about ten minutes. It rises a bit when Summer's engines light, and the fire starts sliding out from under their feet.

  
They lift off comfortably, and then everything around them shimmers. And they are off. Steve tucks his head under Summer's chin to keep some of the wind force off his face, and notes Winter is doing the same.

  
And _oh god_ , Winter looks familiar, as his eyes bead when they met Steve's. Steve knows that smile, those eyes. _Oh, those eyes_.

  
They are the grey-blue of his dead best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this happened. I got an idea two days ago and wrote 5000 words (you should note that not all of it is published here, but what I haven't actually didn't fit the story that I have imagined) - wrote 5000 words in two days. That's pretty good. I got two whole chapters out of it, too! Seriously, if you have ideas, let me know. 
> 
> The time line is for shit, because I can't be arsed looking it up, and I don't honestly care all that much, because this is an AU anyway. So I was intending for the equivalent of The Avengers to happen at some point soon in this story, and then bringing down insight near immediately after that. The Accords, I had thought - briefly - about including at some point, but it's worth noting that Tony is *cough* a little bloodthirstier in this than in canon... so it's possible that Some People may just... disappear. Now that's a thought.
> 
> If I ever get around to writing it.
> 
> I'd also like to apologize if my tenses change, I find that for one sentence I prefer present and another past, so I have to go back and fix it afterwards, and I don't always catch everything. I also tend to write with a mix of British and American spelling, and I tend to use which ever way I think a words looks best... so you might note that while I do use the British "colour" I also often use "z" in place of an "s" - which is American. I probably have some words that I interchangeably use the "z" or "s" because I really don't care and don't notice, and if I'm writing with only my right hand because my left hand is cold, I'm more likely to use an "s" in place of a "z" so. Whatever. I try a little bit. 
> 
> And these are quite some notes. If only they were added to the word count, ha. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you've enjoyed it :)


	2. Steve is Told a Story He Doesn't Want to Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets taken to Summer and Winter's clubhouse. (It's totally a clubhouse. Clint would call it an Evil Lair, because Clint is a dick. Clint would also think the idea that Tony is a supervillian is hysterical. Because he is a dick.)  
> The seasonal pair have a show and tell session with some upsetting files and Winter's horrid backstory.

They arrived at the gate of a storm water drain, and it fell open as they approached. It was maybe a little taller than Steve, and ran further back than he could see. It was, perhaps, simply too dark.

They shot through it, and wound through it faster than Steve was comfortable with. They reached a long section that looked like it had been recently replaced, and Winter removed a hand to press it against a metal grate that lead into an access way.

They pulled into it carefully, and Summer set them down on a concrete platform, shutting the grate behind them. There were stairs that couldn't be seen from the main drains, going upwards around pipes leading down from the building above.  

 

 

"Upwards," Summer said abruptly, leading the way. The metal man clinked against the floor, but it was heavily muffled by the sound of rushing water.

There was about sixty steps in all, leading up maybe ten meters.

The door they reached was a heavy metal looking thing – which frankly fitted the theme this pair seemed to be going for, and looked decently menacing, Steve thought, for a supposed Supervillain/Vigilante's hideout.

The door unlocked without them touching it at all.

 

 

It opened to a cozy looking room, with a full holographic computer set-up, a loveseat with an enormous TV, a shower and changing area – complete with mannequins, and a coffeemaker and fridge.

"The necessities of life," Steve remarked wryly.

"Shush," Winter grinned. Steve couldn't help himself looking at the twin of his Bucky. He held himself very differently, walked differently and had an accent, which was helping keep them separate. Winter had deeper eyes, too. His jaw was wider.

"So," Summer said. "We wanted to… show you somethings, I guess." He plodded over to the desk, and sat down in the wheeled desk chair ( _that must be reinforced_ ).

He tapped a few keys on the real keyboard before doing the same on a holographic one that appeared at his eye height.

"The… full files, if you would," Summer asked of his computer. Winter stood himself behind Summer, leaning on one of his shoulders.

"C'mere, 'Merica," Winter said. "Take a look."

Steve stepped up beside the pair. He looked closely at the images.

"But that's… Sitwell. Pierce. Stern. That guy's from one of Tony's rival companies. Why d'ya have them together, here?"

"They're from the group that had me originally." Winter seemed actually angry.

"The group that had you?"

Winter stilled. "I was owned, yes. They made me forget my name, Stevie. They made me forget everything."

Steve blanked. "Wha-?"

"HYDRA," Summer sneered, "Needs to die, and be salted from these lands."

"I couldn't agree more, солнце."

"I'll show Steve over what we've found? You get the coffee, order pizza?"

"Sounds good." Winter replied. He pulled off his muzzle as he turned away; Steve couldn't get a good look at him. Winter sauntered over to the coffee machine and pressed a button. He then sauntered over to the benches on the other side of the room, picked up a phone from the bench and apparently called a pizza shop. He strode up the stairs before the call went through.

"Steve? Earth to Steve? Are we connecting?"

"Oh, sorry," Steve said.

A muffled snigger could be heard in the metal.

"Anyway, so these seem to be some of those at the top, along with a Madam Hydra, whose identity we've yet to ascertain. They've subordinates pretty much everywhere… and clearly they've infiltrated pretty much everything too. I've been working to get what's left of them at SI since Stane and his colleges were forced out, and there aren't many, but they are there. Shield is pretty much about fifty-fifty, so far as I can identify with certainty. The special ops, including the Avengers seems to be pretty much untouched, thankfully."

Steve just nodded along.

"Hammertech has been bought out by them, from what Pepper has been able to discern; they're no longer selling off, and instead are actually developing some things that work, which is concerning enough. About a third of the Pentagon's security seems to be HYDRA, and about a quarter of the officials there too. Most of the military's command is either HYDRA or is associated with them. The rest are just supremacists that they can't be bothered removing, as they essentially support the same thing.

"We're working on getting more info about their latest project – Insight – which from what I've found, has me terrified. We need more people actively working against them, Steve. It's honestly looking like we're going to lose. And this is HYDRA. We can't afford to be losing.

"'Tasha's doing what she can, but she doesn't really know what's going on… and frankly, she's liable to run, if she thinks it's too dangerous. She's been doing that less when she's with Clint, but still, I'd rather not risk it just yet, you know?"

Steve just gaped a little bit. He heard the shower switch on, and realised he'd missed Winter coming back down the curved staircase.

Summer sighed, shoulders slumping. "There's so much to be fighting. Wars were not meant to be fought by two men alone." Summer turned his gold-coloured face to Steve's. "We can't fight this alone.

"Pizza should be here shortly; they know I pay a full hundred percent in tips. That usually speeds things along."

Steve snorted. "That sounds like another friend of mine."

"Another? Honey, just how many rich friends do you have?"

Steve frowned at Summer.

"An-"

Summer put his metal head in his metal hands.

"-other?"

"Oh god, you don't-"

Summer slid his hands down the sides of his skull, catching his thumbs against his chin. He pressed his thumbs in, and a hydraulic hiss could be heard. He pulled up.

"I thought you figured it out," Tony Stark said.

"Tony? Wha- but…" Steve narrowed his eyes at him. "You made me get fitted for 'fire-proof armour' so that I could fight _you_ without getting burnt?"

"That was mostly for accidents! So that if I did hit you, it wouldn't be you that combusted, just your suit."

"That... okay. I'll accept that. You asshole."

Tony elbowed him gently.

"We were a bit worried about having to fight you, we thought you might just rush after us, and not do the full reading or do any proper recon."

"I wouldn't do that!"

"You would, Stevie!" came a shout from the showers, as they shut off.

Tony smirked.

"So what's up with you and Winter… you seem awfully close," Steve teased.

Tony's face lit up. "Yes! I know. Jamie and I have been dating for almost a year, now. We're to the point I've been asking him to marry me-"

"But I keep saying no, on account of that you can't marry a dead man, Stark," it was Bucky, with a towel around his waist and another in his hair. _Bucky._   _Holy Fuck. What the Fuck. What. Fucking. Holy Shit._

"I'm a Supervillian, the Times said so, I can do what I want, Jamie."

Bucky tilted Tony's head back and kissed him. _!!! Bucky !!!_

"You're such a dork," Bucky said fondly.

"I'll go get the pizza, then?"

"Thank you, солнце." 

Tony stood up, and as he started walking, his armor pulled apart with what looked like miniature versions of Tony's fire flying them along. It reassembled on a mannequin by the changing room. The other mannequin had Winter's outfit strung up on it.

"We're out of ketchup, too, yeah?" Tony asked, about halfway up the stairs.

"Yeah, we are," Bucky called up. He hopped over to the loveseat, and slung his legs over one side. "We're gunna need another seat, or something, too," he said to Steve. "A beanbag 'd be nice."

"I can just take the wheelie chair," Steve said shakily. _What_

"Stevie?"

"I, ah. Well, I didn't realise it was you." He said. "I mean, I saw your face but I convinced myself it was the light that made you look so similar, Buck! I thought, I don't know, I thought that your face was wider, or your eyes were deeper or I don't know. You walk differently." Steve paused. "You were _dead_."

Bucky smiled at him. "I prefer James or Jamie now, if that's okay?" he asked quietly. "Bucky was the name I had before everything that happened to me, and I _am_ different now, so I'm not actually all that surprised you didn't recognise me."

Steve's eyes widened. "Sorry? I didn't – yeah, I can call you Jamie. But what… happened?"

"To me?"

Steve nodded.

"Well, I fell off a train," Jamie mused. "The fall wasn't the bad part. What was waiting at the bottom was… it was HYDRA that picked me up, and Zola wasn't finished running the experiments he'd started on me from when you first broke me out."

Steve was gently pushed into the wheelie chair by Tony's warm hands, he'd returned with wonderful smelling pizza. Tony pushed the chair around, so it was actually in front of the loveseat, and then spun it so Steve was facing Jamie.

"They were trying to recreate the serum you have, which, I mean clearly, worked surprisingly well. They never had any other successes. They got close, sure. But nothing quite as good as what I got. In the mid 50's they got this new idea to train me. It worked. Not well. But torture is a great motivator, and, hmm."

Tony put three boxes in Steve's lap and four on the coffee table.  He opened the first box, and put a piece in Steve's hand. "You need to eat, Steve. You've not touched anything since before your stake out, and that started a good five hours ago."

Steve blinked a bit. "Right." He took a bite.

Tony shoved lightly at Jamie's feet, and when Jamie refused to move, sat in his lap. He pulled a pizza box from the stack on the table, and started nibbling at a piece. Jamie's metal hand started sneaking down towards the box.

"Don't think I don't see that, snowflake. You have your own pizzas, anyway."

Jamie pouted. "Tony," he whined.

Tony poked at his chest. "Nope."

Jamie flipped open a pizza box, and snagged about half of the pizza, folding it up.

"That's gross, James."

"I'm a supervillain, I do what I want."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"In the early sixties, someone figured out a way to wipe memories.  It wasn't very good at the time, but they've had decades improving it since. It only took about five years for it to be good enough I couldn't think to fight back at all, anyway." Jamie poured ketchup over the top of his pizza sandwich.

Tony and Steve shared a Look.

"Then someone else got the bright idea of storing us away, like fine china."

"Cryofreeze," Tony said quietly. "Essentially, they put something in ones blood to stop it freezing like it normally would, bursting blood vessels, et cetera, and snap-freeze them – and as Jamie and I have discovered, HYDRA's particular drugs had an additional affect that left him in an incredibly submissive state for as long as the drug stayed in his system. Which was about 52 hours, not including freeze time."

Jamie nodded. His arms were tucked up against Tony like he was radiating heat.

"About two and a half years ago, now, I was pulled out to ensure an assassination went through."

Tony closed his left hand around Jamie's metal one. The metal fingers twitched, and responded by holding him tightly. Steve noted that Tony was failing to show any sign of pain at that.

"It was a hit on Tony."

Steve's eyes flicked at Jamie, and then back at Tony. "What?"

"Stane? The hit he ordered on me… he was working with HYDRA."

"Holy…"

"But, they didn't realise there was an issue… with the kind of heat that being in a desert brings, I was sweating out the drugs at almost triple the usual speed. So when they sent me, thinking that I'd be fine working nearly alone for an entire month, they'd only topped me off for forty two days. And by the end of the second week, when I was just starting to set up my watch, having taken the first two weeks arriving, it was already wearing off. It was a week and a half after that Tony was supposed to present his Jericho."

"And I did."

"And he did. The wipes, they never lasted. I was supposed to be wiped at least once a month, if I was out, and every time before I was frozen or after I was woken up. That mission was already on the dregs, and then because the drugs wore off too soon, that allowed my serum to restore my memories much quicker than normal. It was during Tony's presentation that my first sense of self came back. Two hours later, when his Humvee was hit, I had my first thought of _I don't like this._ And half a day later, when I was scouting around the Ten Rings camp, I thought. _I don't want this._ And so I killed my handler, when he came for me, and waited for Tony."

Tony smiled cutely at Jamie. Steve almost felt like patting him on the head.

Thinking about patting Tony's head was far nicer than think about what had happened to his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely in past tense. The first chapter is in present. ;; pls halp
> 
> I hate editing for tense. Grammar? Sure! Spelling? No problem! Using appropriate words? I can probably do that! Tenses? i dont even know if it is in past tense or not. I'm not joking, I spent about five minutes staring at a phrase in the last chapter trying to work out if it was in past or present. I decided that idgaf, and ignored it. 
> 
> Also I just noticed I may not have caught all the different times I've typed armor as armour... if you see this in the text, would you let me know? I thought I'd got them all :(
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, please let me know :)


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